Block Party

by Al-Saadiq Banks

  That’s what I want to hear. Now I feel better about him. That’s the Mike I know.

  Do you see what I told you about the go - go Bar? I just found out everything I need to know. Now it’s time to put it together. Slowly but surely, I’ll put my team together. I’m the brain; Slim is the past with all the experience. Little Wu will be my soldier. Mike will be my muscle. Now all I need is a trigger nigga and a connect, and everything else will fall in place.

  You see, everyone has a position to play. The brains can’t be the trigger nigga. If he busts somebody’s ass and gets caught, who is going to run the operation? The experience, which is Slim, can’t be the muscle. So that means everyone has to play his part.

  CHAPTER 6

  September 14

  Three days pass and it’s Saturday again already. I’m up bright and early. Tonight I’m supposed to hook up with the Mexican cat from Connecticut. Last night I could barely sleep, I’m so anxious to get rocking and rolling. I had the runs all last night. Every time I think of making a money move, I get the shits. I’ve always been like that, ever since back in the day. The closer I get to touching the money, the more it feels like I’m going to shit on myself.

  It’s 7 am; I’m out walking two dogs that I bought yesterday. I love dogs. One of my dreams is to one day own my own pet store, so I can mate dogs to sell. These two pit bull puppies are so cute, but they’re mean as hell. One of them has an all-white body and his head is half black and half white. The other is a red- nosed pit. He’s light brown with one hazel eye and one green eye. They’re so feisty. They bark and growl at everyone as they pass us.

  The block is crowded as usual. As I get close to the short, dirty man who is pitching the dope, he has the nerve to scream out “Block Party” as if I’m coming to purchase dope. I ignore him and continue to walk my puppies.

  As I’m standing on the corner in an open field watching my dogs run wild, I’m startled by the loud sound of a car’s tires screeching as it turns the corner. The car is speeding down the block. He must be doing at least 85 miles an hour on this narrow street. It’s a white Lexus Gs with tinted windows. He’s hauling ass. It must be a stolen car.

  By the time the Lex gets to the middle of the block, another car comes along behind it. This car is coming even faster than the Lex. It’s the blue Intrepid. One of the passengers is hanging out the sunroof with a chrome handgun in his hand, and another passenger is hanging out of the back window, with a small black handgun.

  I grab the puppies and run to the back of the lot. Before I can get to safety, I hear rapid gunshots. Boc, Boc, Boc, Boc, Boc! Then I hear, Screech! Like someone is slamming on the brakes. Finally, I hear a crash. Crash! When I look up, I see the driver of the Lexus jump out of his car and take off running down the block. He just crashed into a park car; he lost control of the wheel. By now everyone on the block has fled from the corner trying to run for safety. It’s crazy watching almost 100 dope heads running in slow motion. The ones, who use canes to walk, just limp away extra fast.

  Boc, Boc, Boc! The back passenger fires at the young boy as he quickly run offs. The look on his face shows fear. He’s running for his life. The guy in the back seat jumps out of the car and chases him on foot. Boc, Boc! He fires again and again. Boc, Boc! The kid hanging out the roof fires twice. The boy begins to run faster. Seconds later, the driver of the Intrepid drives onto the sidewalk, recklessly. He’s gaining on the kid. I don’t want to see this.

  Before I can turn my head, the Intrepid hits the kid full speed. He flips in the air about 12 feet high, then he tumbles onto the ground. The driver then backs up as the kid tries to hurry onto his feet. Before the kid can get onto his feet, the dude who was hanging out the roof is now out of the car and standing directly over the kid. The kid lays there helplessly. He doesn’t say a word but his eyes beg for mercy. Before I can blink I hear, Boc, Boc, Boc, Boc, Boc! Then both of Junebug’s boys jump in the Intrepid and speed off, leaving the kid squirming on the ground.

  Blood is everywhere. He’s not looking good. It doesn’t look like he’s going to make it. Apparently, no one has called the ambulance; I pull out my cellular phone and call the ambulance. I don’t want to see this kid go out like this. I don’t know what he did to deserve this, but I sort of feel sorry for him.

  I put the leashes on the puppies and run over to the kid. He’s laying still with a look of shock on his face. His eyes are wide open. He’s staring at me like I’m coming to finish the job. “The ambulance is on its way,” I shout. “Breathe, baby breathe!” He’s looking at me like he doesn’t have a clue of what’s going on or what I’m talking about. Now he’s trying to say something to me.

  “Don’t talk. Just breathe,” I instruct.

  My puppies are going crazy. They won’t let anyone come near us. They’re barking and growling like two guard dogs. Then I see a look of fear in the boy’s eyes. He stretches them open wider as he looks over my shoulder. I look up to see what he’s looking at. It’s Junebug.

  He walks over wearing a silver, German helmet and some aviator shades. Through all of the madness, I didn’t hear him pull up on his black and silver Harley Davidson. He walks over with a big smile on his face. When he reaches us he kicks the boy directly in his head. The boy’s whole body shakes from the impact of the kick. “Chill man, the boy is about to die,” I state.

  “I know. He should have been dead,” Junebug says harshly.

  Junebug then bends down, takes off his shades and points his finger in the kid’s face. “You see, it didn’t have to go like this. We could have handled this like men, but you wanted to talk that gangster shit. I told you not to put no dope on that block, but no, you didn’t want to listen. Now look at you, you all fucked up!” he shouts as he stands up, walks to his cruiser, and hops on it.

  He sits patiently until the ambulance finally arrives and carries the boy away. Then he revs up the bike, vroom, vroom! Pop, pop, pop! He pulls off.

  I leave immediately after. I don’t want to be around when the police get here, knowing that I witnessed everything. I’m still on parole; I don’t need any problems with the law.

  I jump in my car and drive as far away from the scene as I can. As I’m riding I replay the whole incident over and over in my head. Them young boys were very persistent. They were determined to get him. They were not going to let him get away. But one thing I did learn from this situation is that they were very amateur like. There is no way in the world they should have missed that boy as close as they were on him. It took them almost 20 shots just to hit him. With all that money, Junebug needs to get them some shooting lessons. I swear to God, I can’t stand them niggas!

  CHAPTER 7

  This morning I woke up to the loud sound of a motorcycle zooming up and down the street at 6 am. It was Junebug. His goons blocked the street while he wheelied and did stunts all over the road. He had a female passenger on the back of his bike. All she was wearing was a two-piece bathing suit- a g -string bottom and a spaghetti- strap top. From a distance, she appeared to be naked, the way the tiny string disappears into the crack of her behind. My wife Love couldn’t believe her eyes. She said she had never seen anything like that in her life. She thought it was disgusting; I thought it was a pretty sight, watching her big ass bounce as he hit every bump in the street.

  After the show, I showered and went to pick up Slim so we could start our trip.

  It took us a little longer than I expected to get to Connecticut. The traffic was crazy.

  When we arrive at the gas station at the ramp of the exit, I call the Mexican boy just like he instructed me to do.

  “Slim listen, when we get with these guys, just sit back and cool out. Don’t go in there with all that nodding and shit.”

  “Bang Man, I got you! I ain’t gone be nodding cause I ain’t high. I haven’t had a bag since this morning.”

  “Yeah right,” I blurt out.

  “I’m serious man. I wouldn’t lie to you, Big Time.”

  I believe S
lim. I haven’t seen him nod out one time since I picked him up. He’s really trying to clean up his act. Ever since we had the conversation in the car, he’s been doing a lot better.

  “I think this is the car right here. He said he would be in a white Toyota Celica.” By this time, the Toyota has pulled up on the side of me and the driver gestures for me to follow him.

  This guy is taking all the back roads. He’s speeding. It’s hard for me to keep up with him. The big boat bounces up and down as we ride over the dirt roads. I don’t even think these are streets. It’s like we’re in the woods or something.

  Finally, we pull in to a little rundown bar, and the man parks directly in the front. I park, jump out, and we followed him.

  The bar is your typical Mexican bar, just like you see on television; pretty long- haired Mexican women serving drinks while the men throw darts against the wall and shoot pool. The man leads us all the way to the back of the bar. Everyone stares as we follow the short, stocky guy. I must admit that for once in my life, I really feel uncomfortable. We’re the only blacks in the entire bar. I can’t understand anything the people are saying.

  Finally, he points to a man sitting at a table with a pretty Mexican girl sitting on his lap. She’s beautiful. She has long, jet- black hair and big brown eyes. Her white, see- through, silky blouse is plastered to her skin, fully exposing her cantaloupe- sized breasts. The top of the blouse is cut real low. All you can see is cleavage.

  The man looks us up and down with the dirtiest look. He then says something to the girl in Spanish, and she gets up and walks away. I peek at her ass as she walks away from the table. I want to see if she has the whole package. But just like I figured, her ass is flat as a board.

  I look into the eyes of the man. His face shows sign of arrogance. He twirls a toothpick in his mouth, as he looks us over. Finally, he stands up. I almost laugh in his face. He’s even shorter than the other man. He can’t be no taller than 5 feet 2inches. I tower over him.

  He extends his hand to shake mine. Then he totally disrespects Slim by not even acknowledging him. When Slim extends his hand, the Mexican boy just looks at him, leaving Slim’s hand dangling in the air.

  “He’s cool. This is my father.” I try to reassure him. He just looks at me with a blank look on his face. Then the driver of the Celica speaks. “He doesn’t speak English.”

  “None at all?”

  “No, none.”

  “So, who did I speak to on the phone?” I ask.

  “That was me. I do all his translations.” The Mexican boy finally speaks in Spanish. Judging by the way he’s yelling, I can tell he’s angry about something.

  “Juan said his brother told him about you, not about the old man. He said he won’t talk business until the old man leaves. He doesn’t deal with people he don’t know. The only reason you’re here is because his brother speaks highly of you.”

  “Tell him this is my father. He’s cool.”

  He translates what I said to him, then Juan speaks and his boy translates his words to me. “He said he understands all that, but he doesn’t feel comfortable.”

  “Yo, tell him this is my man. He won’t do him any harm,” I explain.

  “Bang Man, just give me the key. I’ll wait in the car, Big Time.”

  “Nah, you with me.”

  “It’s OK. I don’t want to make anyone feel uncomfortable,” Slim explains.

  I pass Slim the key and he walks to the exit of the bar.

  Juan speaks again. “He said thank you very much and have a seat. He also asks do you want anything to drink?”

  “Nothing, thank you. I don’t drink.”

  “He said his brother told him so much about you, and if half of those things are true, you’re still a great man.” I smile bashfully.

  “He said ask you, what is it you want to do?”

  “Tell him I want to get money, and his brother told me he’s just the man I need to talk to.”

  He laughs, and then he speaks again. “He said no disrespect, but normally he doesn’t do business with the black people.”

  His honesty catches me off guard. “Ask him why.” I sort of feel disrespected.

  “He said he has dealt with a few in the past. In the beginning everything was good business, until they built up his trust, then he hit them with something big and they never came back.”

  “Tell him, I’m sorry to hear that, but maybe he’s done business with the wrong black people. Every race has good and bad people. I’m sure some Mexicans will do the same thing. Let me tell you something about me. I’m a businessman. I make money, not take money. I’ve been handling big money my entire career. I’m sure you can’t put anything in my hands that I’ve never dealt with before or that would even tempt me to run off. I promise you, the only way I won’t come back is if I can’t come back; that’s if I’m in a body bag.” I’m getting to him now. He’s sitting there nodding his head up and down. How true he is. As a race, it seems like blacks are the worst people to do business with. The majority of us lack loyalty and patience. Some of us will cross our own mothers for a few extra pennies. That’s our downfall; some of us will do anything for money.

  “He said, ask you how many bricks can you move in a month?”

  “Tell him, that I’m not too sure about. I’m just getting home. I’ll have to start slow until I get my clientele up.”

  “He said there’s no need in making this a long meeting. He just wants to get to the point. How many bricks can you buy?”

  This catches me off guard. I didn’t know we were talking about buying. I thought he was going to front me the work and I pay him later. “Tell him I have a few dollars to move with. Ask him what price he’s letting them go for.”

  “He said $16,000 a kilo. He said they’re beautiful, pure, shiny, and white. He said he only deals with Scorpion (fish scale.) He said ask you, what is it that you want to do?”

  “Tell him I want to start small with a few of them, maybe two or three.”

  Juan sits there like he’s debating. Then he speaks again. His boy translates. “He said that’s small. Normally he won’t make a move unless a guy is buying at least ten. He said he’s willing to start you off with three, then he’ll know from there how many you can handle. When you come back with the $48,000 then ya’ll can take it from there. He said he normally doesn’t work like this, but he’s doing a favor for his brother. He said if you come back, that’s good, but if you don’t it’s no sweat off his back. He’ll just take the $48,000 out of his brother’s account. He said you’re his brother’s boy, so you’re his brother’s risk. He won’t lose anything either way.”

  Finally, the translator leads me to the back of the bar. We walk into the bathroom where he lifts the toilet from the floor and starts turning the dial on the safe. When it pops open, he digs in and pulls out a bag with three kilos in it.

  “Normally, I wouldn’t open the safe in front of anybody, but being that you’re Jose’s boy, I guess you’re cool.” Yeah right! The next time I come here, the safe won’t even be here. They’ll move it somewhere else. How does he think he can run game on a gamer?

  I open one up and examine it. Here goes that queasy feeling in my stomach that I told you about. Beautiful she is- snow white, fish scale. This kilo has two layers, one stacked on top of the other. Each layer is about an inch thick, 9 inches long, and about 6 inches wide. Each layer weighs 504 grams. The total weight is 1,008 grams. Normally, they come in one solid brick form, but every now and then you’ll see them like this.

  Their stamp imprinted on the top is the initials J.S. My man Jose told me the story behind these initials. They had an uncle named Julio Sanchez. That’s who introduced them to the game. He was killed by one of his business partners, who got greedy and wanted the whole business to himself. Ever since they got their own connection, they’ve been stamping his initials on their kilos in memory of him.

  The man places the bricks in a shopping bag, and I walk out the door behind him. Juan
gives me a head nod as I pass him. When I get in my car, I tell the translator to tell Juan I’ll call him tomorrow and let him know how I’m doing.

  Slim is sleeping. I nudge him to wake him up. I drop the three bricks onto his lap.

  “It’s on!” I scream, as I back out of the parking lot.

  “Bang Man, let’s get this money! How many did he give you?”

  “He just gave me three to see how I handle them. Before you know it I’ll be getting 50 at a time!”

  We get home in shorter time than it took us to get there. I drop Slim off and go home. I’m exhausted from all the traveling.

  As I pull onto my block, I see nothing but yellow tape, all over the corner, where the boy got shot. It ‘s so quiet out here tonight, you can hear a pin drop. The block is empty.

  As I pull up to my house I see a burgundy Crown Victoria approaching. When I get in front of my alleyway, I stop and put my blinker on. I let them pass before turning into the alleyway. As they pass, we lock eyes. It’s three suit- and- tie detectives. Two rednecks are in the front, and a black, bald headed one is in the back seat. When I get halfway through the alleyway, I look in my rearview mirror. They’re backing up. When I park, I look back; they’re still there peeking through the alley way at me.

  Please don’t let it go down like this! Finally, I get out and hit my alarm. I don’t bring the bag with the work in it. I don’t want them to ask can they check my bag.

  I walk out nonchalantly, as if I don’t notice them sitting there. I stick the key in the door and they finally take off. Whoa! I’m shitting bricks.

  CHAPTER 8

  The next morning

  This morning I wake up about 8 am. I’m taking my puppies out for their daily walk.

  When I step onto the porch, there’s no one on the block. It feels strange to walk out my door and not hear the words, Block Party! I walk the puppies down the block to the corner store to get the newspaper for Love. I’m taking her and the kids to the movies tonight. She needs the paper to find out what time they’re showing the movie she wants to see.